Insigne
by goldfishlover73
Summary: It was her father's love, bearing down on her.


I Don't Own

III

It was proof of her father's love. After Mr. Mustang had left, her father had stayed cooped up in his study for weeks. He would barely eat, wouldn't speak to her. Just when she thought that she had lost him forever to his alchemy, he called her into his study.

It was up to _her_, he had said, to keep safe his legacy. Because he _loved_ her, she was his only hope.

As he slowly tattooed, as she gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry as she felt the blood roll down her sides, she chanted to herself, _it's his love, it's his love, it's his love_.

III

Mr. Mustang was always so kind to her, especially when it came to her back. It was almost like it was glass, fragile. She knew that was one of the reasons he was there, with her in the musty old house for three weeks after the funeral. When his eyes were on her back, she felt the eyes of her father, his voice resonating, telling her how she must keep his work, his love for her safe. Safe from those with misguided views. As Mr. Mustang fingers drifted across her back she felt the weight of her mission pressing down with every gentle touch.

As he tried to decipher the code, sometimes he would get 'distracted.' Instead of running his fingers over the encryption, his fingers would trail to her shoulder, her neck, and her hips. His fingers, tapping her rib, sighing, would soon become hands massaging, lips brushing her neck.

She knew it wasn't 'love,' for either of them, but his promise about saving this country and his touch made her heart swell, and it was the insigne on her back brought them together, and as she laid in her musty house, with Mr. Mustang for the last time, his notebook on her bedside, closed, complete and his hands running through her cropped hair and her name on his lips as they brush her neck she couldn't help but think _it might be_.

III

It had always brought them together. The alchemic fire.

After the war, after they were both broken, beaten, and completely alone she had made the decision.

He reluctantly agreed.

Once again she lay on her stomach in front of him. As his fingers brushed the black markings, her mind flashed back to the weeks that seemed like a life time ago.

"I'm sorry…It wasn't…I had never dreamed it would be used-"

"Please." She cut him off, eyes clamped shut, knuckles white against the bed sheets. She didn't want to hear his apologies; she didn't want to hear his hurt, his pain. It was hurt fault, giving him the gift. Her father's words echoed in her head "_keep safe my legacy."_ She tried to force her mind on the Major's ghost hands, rather than the last words of her father.

She felt his lips on her neck, as they trailed down her back, stopping that the very edge of the insigne. "I'm so sorry, Riza…"

"Mr. Mustang," she whispered, "Please." She felt his gloved hands run up her sides, making their familiar trail to her shoulders, squeezing them gently before she felt his breath, behind her ear. "I …It will…" his voice was higher and his breath came harder against her neck.

"It's okay." She whispered. She felt the bed shift and his warmth as his entire body encased her, his gloved hands now on her stomach, his face in her nape. She tried to ignore the moisten spot on her neck. "..nve yn" he mumbled her neck.

She wasn't sure if she strained to here it or strained not to.

She felt cold as he raised himself off her. She tried to block out his gasp for breath, trying to count his steps he takes away from her. "On…On thr-ree…Okay Ri-Riza?" she nodded, gripping the sheets tighter.

"One…t-t-two…" she heard him take a shaky exhale, "three."

She tried not to cry as the she smelled the burnt flesh, and ignore the blood that rolled down her sided.

As the pain dulled, and her ears stopped ringing, she was able to hear the heart wrenching sounds of the Major. She pried her eyes open to see anguished face as he knelt next to her, hands a few inches from her back. She sat up and inhaled deeply, surprised as how easy it was to breathe. She held her shoulders back, head higher than she could in years, and smiled, despite the pain. "Thank you, Major."

His face fell slightly before he pulled her in, arms wrapping around her neck as be sobbed incoherent apologies into her hair.


End file.
